Chapter 8 #2
He rolled his shoulders. The muscles ached with more than usual stiffness. He could feel… something along his spine. A growth that threatened to erupt through the skin, possibly, or additional vertebrae forcing his spine to reshape itself.
“I must look a fright,” he said, staring at his shadow on the stone wall.
Rather than reassure him that his visage remained pleasant, she said, “Turn around.”
Such vanity. His mother always said it was his worst quality.
He wrapped the blanket around his waist and complied.
“Worried about ruining my reputation or yours?” she asked.
“Proper decorum should always be observed,” he replied.
She snorted, as if amused, which was impossible because it was well known that Sheriff Navarre had no sense of humor.
At least, past experience led him to that conclusion.
She stared intently at him, frowning. “You’re clearly in the early stages of transformation but I’ve never seen anything like it. Come closer.”
He did as instructed.
“What happened to your arm?”
“I was bitten.”
“Obviously, yes, but why is it… like that? Let me examine it.” She reached for his arm, prompting him to take a step back.
“Touching me is not advisable.”
“Will you attack me?”
“Certainly not.” His control was slipping but he was not that far gone. “If I wanted to attack you, I would have done it when you refilled the water.”
She nodded. “Then let me examine you.”
With a sigh, he held out his right arm.
The bite was red and inflamed. The skin raw. Her touch was gentle, carefully turning his arm to catch the light. A thin layer of scales shimmered blue and green. They were disgusting. He was revolting, twisting into an inhuman creature. How she could stand touching him, he could not fathom.
Professional curiosity, he supposed.
“Scales appeared yesterday,” he explained. “I removed them, but they returned.”
“Yesterday? You should not have waited to come to me.”
Her words were scolding but it did not feel that way to Anthony. They felt like an invitation. Come to her. Always. Without hesitation.
He swallowed, keenly aware of her proximity. It would be nothing to twist his arms, grab her wrist, and pull her forward until their bodies were pressed together with nothing but the bars of the cage separating them. There should be nothing between them. A growl rumbled in his throat.
She looked up, brows raised.
“Pardon me,” he said, clearing his throat.
She made a thoughtful noise and released her grip. “Looks painful.”
“Very,” he confirmed.
“And the wound on your stomach is?—”
“Also covered with scales,” he answered. “The stitches are still there underneath. I can feel them pull when my muscles spasm.”
She dropped his arm and paused. “May I examine that area?”
“Yes.”
She lightly stroked the scales and watched him for his reaction. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes,” he said, his voice thick. Her touch felt like water rolling over him, cool and refreshing.
“Are the scales limited to this area or do they cover more?”
He honestly did not know. “Would it be terribly forward of me to invite you to look or would it ruin my reputation?”
Another snort but now a charming blush rose in her cheeks. “I’ll try to remain respectable.”
She pushed down the edge of the fabric, revealing more of his abdomen. The blanket loosened, slipping farther down his hips, exposing more than needed. Her gaze was fixed and her expression serious.
Anthony had never been particularly prudish about his body. Military life and modesty were incompatible in that manner. However, he did not appreciate being subjected to such a clinical examination.
“I see,” she said, finally lifting her eyes. “All perfectly respectable.”
“I beg your pardon. It is highly respectable.” He did not understand why he teased her in such a lewd manner but a blush rose again in her cheeks, pleasing him to no end.
“You’re clearly in the early stages of transformation but this is not typical.”
“Expecting more fur?”
“Honestly, yes,” she answered. “Beasts are the most common form.”
“Others exist. Your deputy, for one.” The orc remained a sore subject.
Upon learning of Hal’s existence, Anthony had tried to conscript him, and Nina thwarted him with a clever loophole.
A serving deputy could not be conscripted into the military and Hal wore a deputy’s coat.
If Nina had ever truly intended to employ the orc, he could not prove otherwise.
“Yes, it seems you are uncommon.” She glanced up from the scale reflecting on his arm and nearly smiled at him. “Has this happened in your family before? These things tend to run in families.”
“There have been rumblings, but I never paid it much mind.” When his cousin Madeline vanished, he assumed something more… carnal had occurred and she went to wherever fallen women go to live out their days in disgrace. “One does not speak of such matters.”
Her lips pressed down into a thin, hard smile. “In some families, for all the good it does. You never answered my question, Major.”
“What question?”
“If you had symptoms yesterday, why did you wait?”
Technically, she did not phrase it as a question but pointing that out seemed petty. “I’ve had close calls before. It’s always best to keep a cool head and wait.”
She nodded, as if she had heard that before, which was highly probable. “You were hoping it went away.”
Yes, but he would not admit that.
“Tell me, Major, won’t you be missed? Are you away without leave? Being court-martialed will complicate matters.”
“I am currently on medical leave. No one will miss me.”
She nodded again.
Silence fell between them.
“What happens now?” he asked.
“Can you eat?” She lifted the dish cover, revealing a plate of meat and bread. The aroma hit him, curdling in his stomach.
“No,” he said without hesitation. “That smells revolting. Not to insult your cooking.”
“It deserves insults. Cookery is not one of my talents.” She covered the dish. “Water?”
“Yes.” He gulped down two more glasses. The thirst was never -ending.
“Tomorrow will be worse. You’ll be famished when it’s done,” she said. “Try to rest.”